Hellbound
by Sorrel
Summary: Xander returns after disappearing for three years to lend a hand with the First, but he's a very different person. Something dark plagues this new Xander, and Spike finds himself not only wanting to help Xander, but also wanting Xander himself. XS SLASH
1. Prodigal

**Part One: Prodigal.**

* * *

In which the prodigal son returns, Spike thinks too much, and Xander has a friend.

* * *

Spike liked it in the cemetery at night. Not for your obvious reasons, either- like him being a vampire, and it being filled with dead people and frequently stupid coeds that even though he no longer got to eat, he could still laugh at them for being there in the first place.

He even liked the cemetery for more than just the fact that it was the easiest spot to find something to kill. There was something quiet about cemeteries, something peaceful in a morbid sort of way. It suited the odd mood that had been plaguing him for weeks, now- a sort of restlessness that he didn't know how to quell.

Tonight he was after some sort of horned demon that liked to sacrifice virgins, or some such. He didn't know what it was, as he hadn't been paying attention when Giles had told him about it, but they knew him well enough by now to know that if he needed any special information to kill the damn thing, they damn well better make sure he was paying attention. Rupert didn't like him, but neither did he ever try to get him killed, and they'd developed an odd sort of comradeship over the past year or so. Ever since Buffy had crawled back out of her grave.

He shouldered the thought aside, and concentrated on tracking the demon he was after. The scents that reached his nose when he inhaled were definitely not human, but neither were they demonic, precisely. The confusion over what they were, and what the odd spiced smell that flavored them was, sent him off across the oddly smooth lawn, following his nose.

He found the source near a crypt, but it took him a while to realize what it was. Two men, one pressing the other against the wall of the crypt, and the both of them kissing like they were trying to climb into each other's throats, rubbing against each other like cats in heat. From what he could see they were both human, but not only could he smell otherwise, his- Spider Sense- god he was spending too much time with teenagers- was tingling. These two were not human, and with this town sitting right on top of a Hellmouth, that usually meant trouble.

He closed the distance between him and them and tapped the larger one on the shoulder. "Sorry, mate, but I want to-"

His voice died in his throat when the one he'd touched whirled around to glare at him, leaving the smaller one leaning against the crypt wall. This man was beautiful, in a feral sort of way, but there was something that he almost recognized about him…

"Fuck off, Spike. Can't you see I'm busy?"

He knew that voice. He knew that tone of disgust and rage and anger. And now, he knew the face, though it was very, very different than the one he remembered.

"Harris? Xander Harris?"

"Yeah, whatever," said the man who'd been missing for three years straight with nary a word to anyone. "You got my attention, what do you want?"

"What the hell are you doing here? And where the hell have you been?"

Both seemed like valid questions to Spike, but Xander sneered at him, an expression that Spike remembered quite well, even after three years. The scar bisecting the upper lip was new, though.

"What the fuck business is it of yours, Spike?"

"When a bloke who's been missing for three years shows up on the Hellmouth smelling not-so-very-human, I make it my business!"

"While you're asking questions, aren't you gonna ask what I am?" Xander said, switching tacks abruptly and smiling now, with lazy, sardonic amusement. This was… not at all the man that Spike remembered. No puppy eyes, no kick-me looks. This Xander was… a predator.

"Fine, then. What the hell are you?"

"None of your business," Xander said, and even Spike could see how much he enjoyed being able to say that. "Well, you'll figure it out eventually. But why should I ruin the fun of watching you chase your tail in circles till you catch on?"

Through all of this, the bloke that Xander had been snogging was leaning against the wall, watching with interest. At Xander's words, though, he straightened away from the wall and came padding over- the only word Spike could think to describe his movement- to stand by Xander's side.

"You shouldn't bait him, Xan," the boy said, because Spike could see that he really was a boy- not much older than seventeen. Cute little punk kid, too, with his hair spiked out everywhere in a rainbow of colors and wearing faded, ripped clothes. He wondered where Xander had picked this one up, and when the man had started playing for the other team.

"Why shouldn't I?" Xander said. "I gotta get my amusements where I can."

"You know we're going to need him eventually," the boy pointed out. "You don't want to alienate him."

"Oh, I do," Xander said, and while they stood there talking about him like he wasn't even there, Spike took the time to actually look at Xander, catalogue the changes three years had made.

Where once he'd dressed in castoff clothing with colors bright enough to sear the eyes, he now wore unrelieved black. Heavy black boots to give him an extra inch or two in height, worn black leather trousers, and a high-necked black t-shirt tight enough that Spike could see very clearly the twin rings piercing his nipples. His face was the same but leaner, harder, and his skin was much paler than Spike remembered, as if he spent most of his time in the dark rather than the light. A silver stud with matte black balls decorated the corner of his left eyebrow, and when Xander talked, an identical piercing flashed between his teeth. The clothes were tight enough that Spike was able to easily count the weapons he was carrying- two knives strapped to his thighs, probably accessed by a slit in the trouser pockets, a stake in his back pocket, and another, much larger knife hung on a sheath from his black leather belt next to a gun large enough that it looked like it could get the job done, no matter what the job happened to be.

Spike had seen people like him before. Worn down to the essentials, surviving more than living, and more dangerous than a rabid wolf when crossed. People with little to lose rarely cared overmuch for personal safety. What Spike didn't understand, couldn't understand, was how, and why, Xander had joined their ranks.

"We will need him," the boy was still insisting softly, and when Spike turned his attention back to the conversation he saw Xander sigh and fold.

"You're right," he admitted. "We will need him."

"Need me for what?" Spike demanded, since he'd never been one to tolerate someone talking about him like he wasn't always there. Xander turned to face him, his face all silver and shadows in the light of the half-moon, and for a moment Spike thought that he looked even less human than he smelled.

"Apocalypse," Xander said succinctly. "The usual. You don't think I'm in Sunnydale for a social call, do you?"

"Xander," the boy said, a very quiet scold in his voice, and for some reason Spike was reminded irresistibly of Tara. The boy had the same quiet strength that the witch did, and it seemed to work just as well on this new and different Xander as Tara's did on a troublesome Dawn or an arguing Spike and Buffy.

Xander sighed, and turned very slightly towards Spike without actually looking at him. "Fine. I'll be polite. Spike, this is Kelsey Ba'thalion. Kels, this is Spike. Kel's a shifter. Wolf, to be specific. Spike's a vampire, as you damn well know. Now that I've gotten the introductions out of the way, can we get the hell out of here? Spike pretty much shot the mood all to hell anyway, so we might as well head home."

"You can't just fucking run off like that!" Spike growled. "Why are you here, after all this time? What apocalypse? And why the hell don't you smell demon?"

"So many questions," Xander mocked. "Such complicated answers. Suffice to say, I'm here because I was called, no other reason. The apocalypse can wait, as you have time. And I don't smell human because I'm not. Which is a long story, and not something I care to explain for now."

"For now?"

"For now," Xander repeated. "Take a message to Buffy. Tell her that I'll be at the Magic Box at sunset tomorrow. I'll explain everything then."

"She's not going to be happy," Spike warned. "With the way you ran off three years ago, and everything. In fact, she's gonna be pissed something royal. The rest of them, too."

"Doesn't matter," Xander said, dismissing the emotions of his oldest and best friends as if they were nothing. "Just tell them."

Spike shook his head. "What the hell happened to you, Harris?"

"More than you could possibly understand. Even you. But I'll explain it. Tomorrow."

Xander turned to go, Kel right on his heels, and Spike called out to him. "What should I do if I need to get in contact with you?"

"We're gonna be at the old mansion on Crawford Street," Xander said. "I'm sure you still remember the way."

Spike wanted to call out, to keep him there, but Xander had started moving again, running now, and in a few seconds even the echo of his footsteps was gone. Whatever Xander had become, he had power to spare, as did his little shifter- Spike wasn't sure that even he could move that fast.

Spike started walking slowly back in the direction he'd come. His fairly routine evening had turned up a surprise that he had no doubt was gonna turn his life upside down, and he had no clue what the hell to do about it.

Tell Buffy, he supposed. Go to the meeting tomorrow. Find out what Xander had to say.

The boy had changed. And it wasn't just a surface change, or even a change of species. Something had happened to Xander, something that he hadn't been able to control, and it had twisted something so fundamental inside the boy that he had become something much closer to a wild animal. Kel might be half wolf, but Spike had no doubt that when the moon was full, Xander would be the one with instincts he couldn't control.

And Spike found that he was oddly driven to know what they were. More than just simple curiosity. More even that concern for the home and family he'd managed to build throughout the last couple of years.

He wanted to know what had happened to Xander because he wanted Xander. It was as simple, and surprising, as that. There was something more than a little untamed about the man that Spike had just met in the cemetery, and Spike found himself wanting to know what all that pale skin felt like under his hands, and how the spice of arousal that Spike had scented would taste like if Spike drank his blood.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, as he had long ago gotten used to wanting one person, and one person alone. But Buffy would never look at him that way, and he had resigned himself to the friendship he'd built with her, that in the long run, he almost treasured more.

Xander was nothing like the golden Slayer, but he was a great deal like Drusilla. Perhaps Spike's demon side was showing more than he'd expected, and it was starting to seem like he'd gotten over Buffy a bit more than he'd thought.

But Spike was born to adore, born to worship, and at the end of one love Xander had appeared, feral and angry and a predator to the bone. Spike knew that when he fell, he fell hard, instantly and without reason. It was starting to look like Xander had replaced Buffy in his affections the way Buffy had replaced Dru. And if it was true, then it seemed like Spike was heading back towards his roots with a man that was more dangerous than his Dark Princess ever was.

The question was: what was he going to do about it?

* * *

It was easier not to care when you had no one to care about. Xander had learned that the hard way.

It was no longer the lesson he lived by, however. That first hellish year... he didn't like to think about it. But he had people now. He had people who cared about him, people that he could care about in return, even if he couldn't feel as much for them as he wished.

Kel, of course, his partner, his lover, his keeper. The tamer of the beast. Xander knew that he could not have survived the past two years without Kel by his side, and he was grateful for it. He tried to show Kel just how grateful, but even when he could never find the right words, the right actions, Kel understood.

Angel, his ally, and the only person who could understand what it meant to have a calling. Wesley, who truly understood the mission better than even Angel, who lived for the mission and had taught Xander how to do the same.

The coven that had guided him, because without them he would have long ago been lost.

Blake, his contact in the Watcher's council, who had a smile and a ready wit and a way of getting himself and others out of many a tight spot.

No, Xander couldn't have made it this far without letting people into his life, and, to the extent he could, into his heart.

But he had never fallen in love.

He doubted he could. Not anymore. Not after what had happened to him. Not after what he had become. He could care about people, and sometimes with Kel he thought he might love him, but he had never fallen in love. He had never given his heart, or even had it truly touched.

But tonight, when he had turned to see Spike, looking exactly the same as when he had left, he had felt something inside of him move.

"Hey you," he heard Kel say softly beside him where he was sitting on the floor, and then there were two cool hands on his shoulders. "You look worked up. Something wrong?"

"You mean besides coming back to the place I never wanted to see again and running into the person I used to hate more than words can describe? You mean besides the fact that being on the Hellmouth makes it worse? No, nothing."

"It?" Kel began to knead at his shoulders, a futile attempt at clearing away the tension that knotted the muscles permanently, now.

"Yeah, that it. Not the hating Spike part. Hell, why bother hating Spike these days? He's a better person than I am."

"You know he's not." Soft conviction in Kel's voice, and closed his eyes.

"Okay, so he's not a better person than I am. But the demon inside of him is nothing to what I have inside of me."

"And you're controlling it," Kel said. "You always have. I know you, Xan. You've got a will of steel. You can do this." Kel sat down on the couch behind him, his hands still working their magic.

"Can I? The moment I crossed the Sunnydale limits, it perked up and said, 'Well, hell­-_lo._' It hurts. What if I can't control it?"

"Then we leave." Steel tone. Kel could be stubborn.

"We _can't_. We have to be here." Pause. "You still carry it, don't you?"

"You know I do, Xan."

"Just... you might need to use it."

"I won't."

"But you _might._ I'm telling you, it's worse than it's ever been. One of these days I might lose control. You have to be ready."

"I love you, Xan." Nothing but sweet, giving friendship there, and for what had to be the millionth time, Xander blessed the day that Kel had come into his life.

"I know you do. But you have to be ready."

"I don't know if I can."

"You promised me, Kel. If you can't do it, then I find someone who will."

"What if we all love you too much?"

"Then I end it myself before I go a step further. I'm not going to hurt anyone, Kel. I can't. I won't."

"Alright," Kel said soothingly. He ran his fingers through Xander's hair, and Xander sighed and leaned back against him.

"Will you sleep with me tonight? Human-you, I mean. I know you prefer to sleep shifted, but-"

"Of course I will," Kel said. "You didn't even have to ask. I was going to do it anyway."

Xander rubbed his cheek against one jeans-clad thigh. "I love you too, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

They sat in silence for a long time, and despite the reassuring touch of the one man he cared for beyond all others, Xander couldn't stop thinking about Spike.


	2. Revelations

**Chapter Two: Revelations.** In which Dawn meets Kel, Xander talks to Spike, a Scooby meeting is had, and Xander reveals a few secrets.

* * *

The conversations had been going around and around ever since Spike had come in this morning through the tunnel into Buffy's basement and had broken the news.

Xander was back blah wasn't human blah apocalypse blah blah blah.

Dawn was tired of it. Everyone was meeting in the Magic Box, supposedly an hour before sunset so they'd have time to have a final talk before Xander and his boytoy (Buffy's words, not hers) got there. She'd gotten here on time, unlike a certain someone (_cough _Buffy _cough_), and then she, along with the Anya, Giles, and the Witches, had had to wait.

She'd gotten tired of waiting half an hour ago. Fifteen minutes ago, Anya had finally gotten fed up with her jitters and had set her to shelving stock, saying that if she was going to have so much extra energy, then she might as well put it to good use.

But it was only two minutes ago that the boy had walked into the Magic Box, and for a reason she couldn't name, Dawn couldn't help but watch him out of the corner of her eye.

He was nothing like anyone she'd seen before, not since she'd moved from LA, anyway. In Sunnydale you might have witches and vampires and other Hellmouthy creatures, but you never saw anyone who _looked_ out of the ordinary. You would never see a boy with the tips of his black hair dyed into a rainbow of colors, with a pierced lip and ears three times each. You'd never see a boy with a tattoo around his throat, a collar of lacy vines done in dark green ink. You'd never see a boy with a black t-shirt ripped across his midriff, and loose black jeans worn to holes that were patched with safety pins. And she'd never seen anyone but Spike wearing Doc Martens.

So this boy was different, and that should have been reason enough for her to have this embarrassing tendency to stare. But it was something more than that, and she knew it, but she couldn't quite figure out what the something more was, precisely.

The box of miscellaneous mystical statuary that she was trying to lift onto the top shelf proved to be heavier than she'd expected, and she found herself fighting to heft it high enough. Just before she was sure to drop it, there were hands over hers, supporting the box and lifting it easily onto the high shelf.

She turned to see the punk boy she'd been watching, standing behind her with his hands already back at his sides. He offered her a little smile. "It looked like you were having trouble."

"Man, you must be really strong. You're not much bigger than I am, and you lifted that thing like-" She paused. "Like you're not human. Damn it. You're some kind of demon, aren't you?"

"A wolf shifter, actually," he said. "I'm here with Xander."

Oh. "Oh," she said. "Spike said something about you."

"How much about me?" No alarm in the boy's voice, just simple curiosity.

"That you're a wolf shifter, and that you and Xander are... involved." She hated pale skin- it was hard to hide the blush.

He grinned at her and tucked his hands (chipped metallic green nail polish, she noticed) into his pockets. "Yeah. Notsomuch like you're thinking, though."

"Spike said he found the two of you kissing."

"I never said I wasn't sleeping with him. But we're more partners than anything. Like Batman and Robin." Another grin. "I, of course, would be Robin."

"Batman and Robin weren't gay," she said automatically, then focused on the more important part of metaphor. "So you're all... good-guy-ish? And Xander's a superhero?"

"Yeah, we're good guys. And yeah, Xander fights the good fight. Notsomuch a superhero."

"Then what is he?"

"A question I think we all want answered," Buffy said as she came in through the front door to the Magic Box. Dawn rolled her eyes- Buffy never could resist making an entrance- and ignored her sister when she gave the boy her patented Angry!Slayer!glare™. "And who are you?"

"Kelsey Ba'thalion," he said politely. "You'd be Buffy, I take it?"

"How'd you know?" she demanded.

"Because Xander told me that if I ran into a tiny blonde that scares the hell out of me, then I'd know that I'd met Buffy Summers."

Buffy's glare lessened a little bit, as she debated whether or not she was going to take that as a compliment or not. Apparently unable to make up her mind, she just shook it away and changed the subject- a well-known Buffy tactic.

"You're Xander's friend."

"Yeah," Kel said. "We've been partners for two years, give or take."

Dawn could see Buffy wanting to ask if Kel meant _partners,_ partners, or just partners. Was it that obvious, or did she just know her sister that well? Nevermind, that was totally not the point.

What Buffy said instead was, "I thought he was going to meet us here at sunset."

"He is."

"It's sunset. So where's Xander?"

"Here," said a familiar voice from the back doorway, the one that led to the training room. Xander stood there, looking dark and unsmiling and- well, really freakin' hot, actually, not that that was the point- with Spike appearing behind him. "I'm here," he repeated, and everything fell silent.

* * *

Spike found Xander leaning against the wall beside the back door, waiting for him. Spike couldn't control the surge of pleasure he felt, but he could and did keep his face blank as he closed the distance between them.

"Hey," Xander said, when he was close enough. Spike stopped and looked at him, noticing the collar tattooed on his throat that had been hidden by the high collar of his shirt the night before. It was similar to the one that he'd noticed on the wolfling, but Xander's was done in dark blue ink instead of green, and the art was heavy Celtic knot work instead of lacy vines. Spike stared at it, and wondered how long it had been since he'd last felt butterflies in his stomach.

"Hello."

Xander rolled his shoulders and looked uncomfortable. "Wanted a chance to apologize for last night," he said.

Whatever Spike had been expecting, that wasn't it. "Now I know there's gonna be an apocalypse," he quipped. "If you're apologizing to me."

Xander straightened up, something ugly creeping into his eyes, and instinctively Spike shrank back a step. Whatever was wrong with Xander, it has just come home to roost with a vengeance at Spike's joke, and Spike, demon though he was, couldn't help but be a little afraid.

Humanity bled back into Xander's eyes at Spike's movement, leaving only self-directed fear and disgust. He whirled around and slammed both fists into the brick wall, causing a spider web of cracks to appear in the masonry.

"Sorry." The word was hoarse.

"No need to be, mate." Greatly daring, Spike reached out and touched Xander's rigid back. "Any blind fool could see that there's something ridin' you. I don't know what it is, but it can't be easy to live with."

"It's not." Xander turned and slumped against the wall. "Worse, here."

"Hellmouth does tend to bring out the demon in you," Spike agreed. "Anything I can do to help?"

Xander let out a helpless sort of laugh. "Yes. No." Pause. "Can I make up my mind later?"

"Sure. Make more sense if I knew what was goin' on, though."

Xander shook his head. "Not up to telling this more than once."

"Then we'd better get inside," Spike said. "That was the reason we met tonight, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was." Spike waited patiently as Xander sighed, fidgeted, and finally straightened away from the wall. "Okay." He visibly steeled himself, then opened the door and went in. Spike followed him as he silently crossed the training room, getting close enough to the open door to the shop to hear the tail end of Buffy's question.

"-where's Xander?"

"Here," he said, stepping into the doorway with Spike right behind him. "I'm here."

* * *

It took a while for everyone to stop milling around and talking over each other. Eventually, it was only Giles' watcher-glare and everyone's mutual curiosity that got them to shut up and settled down in their usual spots, with Kel sitting at Xander's feet- a very canine habit that looked odd for a human boy.

"It was several days after Adam that I started having dreams," Xander began. "Not the dreams from the First Slayer. Dreams from something else entirely.

"It was a few days after that when I started hearing the voice. Calling me, I thought, and after a week, I found out I was right. I gave in, wrote a goodbye note, packed my things, and followed the voice out of Sunnydale. It didn't leave my head until I found myself in a white chamber somewhere like underneath an LA post office.

"A... being is the best way to describe it... spoke to me. Same voice that had been calling me. It told me that I'd been chosen, that the spell to defeat Adam had opened me up and drawn their attention to me. That I'd been given a gift.

"They gave me power. As much power as I had the will to control."

He paused, and everyone leaned forward a little, rapt with attention. Everyone but Spike, who was staring at him with a peculiar expression on his face, as if he was being told that a fairy tale was true by Snow White herself.

"What I didn't know then was that the power they gave me was demonic in origin. Dark power, you could say, and it was. Dark, I mean. It's... hard to control, sometimes. Much, much worse here in Sunnydale, which is one of the reasons I never came back here. There's only so much that I can take. Given a choice, I'd be at the other end of the world from here right now." There was a long pause.

"But I can't," he said finally. "I sent to help here. And I will. That's all there is to it."

A long silence followed his words, interrupted only by the sounds of rustling clothes and soft breathing. Finally Giles spoke, asking the question that they were all thinking.

"But Xander," he said carefully, "what, exactly, are you?"

A flat voice answered him- not Xander, but Spike, sitting up on the stepladder and looking shell shocked.

"He's Hellbound."


	3. Visions

**Chapter Three: Visions.

* * *

**_In which both Xander and the apocalypse are discussed, Xander has a nightmare, Spike helps him cope, and Kel learns something more._**

* * *

**

Giles sent Spike a frowning glance. "Spike, that's a myth."

"What's a myth?" Dawn wanted to know. "The Hellbound thing?"

"Yes, exactly," Giles said. "There've been rumors of such creatures, but no one has ever found any proof to substantiate it."

"We're not creatures," Xander said quietly, and Giles turned to look at him.

"You mean to tell me that Spike is right?"

"Now I know the world is ending," Buffy muttered. Everyone else ignored her.

"Xander, do you honestly expect me to believe that you are actually one of the people known as Hellbound? Because I can honestly say that the Council-"

"Has its head up its ass," Xander interrupted. "And you know it. The only Council member who knows about me has too much common sense to share with the class. Don't bother asking his name," he added when Giles opened his mouth again. "He's helped me out too much for me to betray him. Even to you."

"Giles?" Buffy asked. "I don't suppose that you could maybe, possibly, tell us what's going on?"

Giles shook his head. "I don't know enough about it. Until today, I believed that Hellbounds was a legend, a piece of creative fiction dreamed up by the demon community."

"It's not fiction," Spike said. "Until Xander I'd never actually met one before, but I've heard some. They're rare, but dangerous. Some of them are more demon than the ones they kill."

"We're rare because we die early and often," Xander said. "And there aren't many of us who can actually channel the power they dump into us without our bodies overloading. Those of us that survive the change die within six or seven years, though, at the outside. If we're lucky, we go out in a blaze of glory, sacrificing ourselves for the cause. If we don't, if we survive past the seven year limit, then we become overwhelmed by a berserk rage that will cause our brains to implode. It's not a pretty ending, but in the meantime, we get the job done."

"I don't understand." This was from Willow. "Giles always said that Slayers were the champions, the ones chosen to fight evil. So what's with the Hellbound?"

Xander shook his head. "You think Slayers are the only ones that fight evil? One girl, in all the world? You can't be everywhere. So do you really think that across the globe in places you can't be, everyone just sits back and let innocents be slaughtered? Not hardly. The world is filled with Champions. I'm just one of them."

"You, a Champion?" Buffy was not taking this well. "Gimme a break."

"You think you're so special because you're the Chosen one," Xander said, and his voice somehow got lower, angry, sneering. "You have it _easy,_ Summers. You live a normal life, and then one day you're something more. You never paid any real price for all your power, no matter how much you whined about being different. You don't have a demon in you. You never have trouble sleeping at night because you can all but taste the blood of the people you have to stop yourself from killing. You're mortal. In San Francisco I met a pair of men who can literally never die. My contact in the Council is a wet works agent who's fully human, but that doesn't stop him from fighting and killing almost as many demons as you do. Even your one true love down in LA has his own price to pay for who he is. You may be a Champion, Slayer, but you're a Champion by default. The rest of us actually have to work at it."

Spike had been observing this silently from the steps, but after Xander's angry speech he figured that it would be a good time to get involved. "You still haven't told us exactly why you're here, Harris," he said, and made sure to use the old method of address rather than calling him the more affectionate "Xan" that almost slipped out. But his voice was softer than usual, since he didn't want to make Xander feel worse than he already was, and Xander, glancing up at him, let him know with a glance that he knew what Spike was doing and was grateful for it.

"Yeah," chipped in Dawn. "Why are you here?"

"Apocalypse," he said shortly.

"You've said that already," Buffy said, sounding exasperated. "Around here, you need to be a little more specific." Pause for effect. "Or have you been gone so long you've forgotten?"

Even Spike winced at the digging cut of the rusty knife in her voice. Seems Buffy was harboring some abandonment anger, even now, knowing the circumstances.

Xander ignored her anger as beneath his notice- and maybe it was. Bloke's got as many problems as Xander and maybe an angry Slayer just wasn't important anymore. "You've all been seeing phantoms, visions that talk to you. All of dead people." He gestured to the piles of books on the table. "You've been researching them, but you can't find any one entity that can manifest in so many different ways."

"You know what it is, I take it?" Buffy challenged.

"I do," Xander said. "It's the First."

Silence. Dead silence. Deader than Spike. And then Buffy, in a very small voice with no trace of her earlier combativeness, asked, "Are you sure?"

Xander nodded. "It's mobilizing. You don't have long before the Bringers descend on Sunnydale. Right now you're safe, because they're chasing down Potentials all across the world, but pretty soon they're going to be coming here because all of the Potentials are going to be sent here."

"That's impossible," Giles said. "The Council would never allow the Potentials to converge on one place like that, and they certainly wouldn't bring them here." He sent an apologetic look at Buffy. "They don't think very highly of the current Slayer."

"They're not left with much of a choice," Xander said. "It's an all-hands-on-deck situation. The First hasn't truly mobilized in millennia, as I'm sure you know. And now it's specifically targeting the Slayer line. Faith has been warned, and a Council operative has been assigned to work on getting her free and able to fight. She'll be staying in LA with Angel and Wes, and take in Potentials there. For now, though, all we can do is wait."

Up until then, Dawn, Willow, Tara, and even Anya had remained relatively silent, but at this point Anya, unable to contain herself any longer, finally burst out with the question that everyone else was wondering.

"Can someone please explain what the hell is going on?"

"I second that," Willow said firmly, and Tara nodded along with her. "We're a little in the dark here, guys."

Buffy glanced at Giles for permission. "You mind if I field this one?"

He waved one hand in permission. "Feel free."

"The First," Buffy said and took a deep breath. "It's the First Evil. It appeared back in our senior year of high school- tried to get Angel to take me and lose his soul, and failing that, to kill himself. I managed to convince him otherwise and the First withdrew, I thought permanently. I did some research- with Giles' help- and discovered that the First Evil was supposed to be just that- the First Evil. Not too much on it, but I guessed that it meant the first true demon, or something like that."

"Far worse than that," Xander said. "The First Evil isn't just the first evil thing, Buffy. It's literally the first evil. It's the darkness that spawned the first demons. The Powers that Be- the ones we serve and answer to- are the children of its twin, its light mirror. Or, to simplify things, the First Good."

"I have never heard of such a thing," Giles said.

"And you say that as if it makes it true," Xander said, not unkindly. "Though in one way, you're correct. The First Good isn't an entity the way the First Evil is; it's more of a concept. We don't worship Good the way that some worship Evil, and so the First Evil has been able to personify itself. And throughout the last several thousand years, it has been amassing its armies for a full-scale attack. And apparently, the time for that attack is now."

"Why now?" Willow asked. "If it's been waiting all this time, then why did it choose now as its moment?"

At this Xander shook his head. "I don't know," he said.

"But you know all this other stuff," Dawn objected. "How can you _not _know that?"

"I just don't," he said. "Source is pretty tapped dry at the moment, and I don't know why now. Sorry, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Which brings up the thing I wanted to ask next, Xander," Giles said, taking off his glasses and starting to polish them. Spike, from his perch, saw an odd look pass briefly through Xander's eyes, and wondered if Xander wasn't feeling homesick, for lack of a better word. Or nostalgic, perhaps. If Spike had to pick one thing that reminded him of Rupert, it was glasses-cleaning. It was possible that Xander held the same association. If that look meant what Spike thought it meant, then Xander wasn't quite as uncaring about his old friends as he was pretending to be.

"I'd like to know what, exactly, your source of information is," Giles said.

Xander hesitated, then glanced down at Kel, still settled comfortably at Xander's feet in a half-kneeling, half-sprawled position. He looked almost like he was asking the wolfling for permission, which seemed odd to Spike. Then Kel nodded, and at Xander's next words Spike understood.

"Kel. He has... visions. From the Powers."

"I thought Cordy was the only one who got those," Dawn said. Everyone glanced at her. "What, I can't keep up with old friends? Jeez."

Buffy opened her mouth, clearly wanting to point out that Dawn had never been friends with Cordelia Chase, but apparently decided against it and just shook her head before listening to what Xander had to say.

"Kel's are different. Cordelia gets visions of specific events, and those usually related to one person or group of people in trouble. For me, they send information to Kel, more of a Knowing than an actual vision. Or at least that's how he's described it to me."

"And that's what you meant when you said you were sent here," Giles said, in tones of understanding. "Kel was given the knowledge of the First and its intentions toward the Slayer line, and so you came here."

"Actually, if it were just the knowledge of the First we would have gone to LA and worked from there, most likely," Xander answered bluntly. "Since The Change-" and everyone in the room could hear the capital letters there, "-Angel has been a closer ally than most, so I probably would have turned to him and his group. But we were also told of the intentions the Council has for Sunnydale and Buffy, so I'm here. I-" His voice broke a little, and he leaned against the wall, looking shaken.

"Are you quite alright?" Giles asked, concerned. Xander shook his head.

"No. Gotta get out of here. Sorry, but the shop- too close to the high school. The mansion's further away. I just gotta- go." He glanced down at Kel. "You coming?"

Kel rose to his feet with a movement too graceful to be human, but shook his head at Xander. "I'll stay here, answer all the questions I can," he said quietly. "They need to know everything we've got."

Xander cupped his cheek in one hand. "Yeah, I know." It was such an intimate pose that for a second everyone held their collective breath, thinking that Xander was going to kiss him, but Xander just smiled at him and turned, his hand dropping away as he disappeared through the back door.

Everyone turned to Kel, and in the rapid-fire questions that followed, no one noticed Spike slipping out the door after Xander.

* * *

Xander sat in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames, uncaring of the fact that any mortal human would have been feverish from the heat of the fire in the heat of California's early fall weather. He was stripped down to jeans, the silver of his nipple rings glinting against the fire-lit glow of his pale skin. He sat in a simple cross-legged pose, hands palm-upwards on his knees, and he stared into the fire, letting the dancing light sink into him and calm the roiling upset in his body that being this near the Hellmouth caused. 

Flames were his preferred method of meditation, though he had learned to use others. A fragmented crystal would work if he was desperate, or a pool of water if it was moving, stirred by a fountain usually. Flames, however, were inherently soothing to him, perhaps because of their very nature- light and shadow always intertwined together in an endless dance.

He heard the footsteps approaching the mansion long before they reached the front door, and he listened with an almost-smile on his face as Spike hesitated, then came right in without knocking.

"In some ways, you've changed less than I expected," he said, never looking away from the fire. He heard Spike react behind him, a hiss of indrawn breath, and continued. "And in others, you've changed more than I could possibly imagine."

"How'd you know? About the changes. You said that you expected some, which means that you know some of what's happened to me in the past few years. So how'd you know? Did the wolfling get a vision of me, or somesuch?"

Xander shook his head and finally twisted his body away from the fire to face Spike, who looked, as always, so much larger than life, pale skin and hair dramatic against the black and red of his clothing and pacing and filled with that impatient intensity that Xander remembered well.

"Nothing so complicated. I told you that I'm fairly close to Angel. I got my news about you the old-fashioned way: word of mouth."

Spike stilled and stared at him. "You're closer to more people than you let on."

Xander shook his head, reading something turbulent in Spike's expression and guessing fairly accurately at what it was. "It's not quite the way you think," he said. "Angel and the rest in LA are more like comrades, or brothers-in-arms, something like that. Kel's the only one I'm really close to, and it's more because I trust him than anything else." _Like love,_ he wanted to add, but didn't. That was not a word he planned to use lightly in Spike's presence.

"Trust," Spike said musingly. "Trust him for what? I know you mean something other than just as your little partner in anti-crime."

Another thing that Xander had forgotten- how fucking insightful Spike could be, when he wanted to. "You heard what I said, earlier tonight, about how all Hellbound end up?" Spike nodded. "I trust him to kill me before it comes to that."

Spike stared at him, taking a couple steps closer as if not quite under his own will. "You live a hell of a life, don't you?" he said, almost wonderingly. "And I don't mean that as a figure of speech."

"Yeah, Spike," Xander said. "We're called Hellbound for a _reason._"

"What happens?" Spike said. "You said a little, back there, about what it was like. What happens to you, that makes it so hard?"

"Anger," Xander said promptly. "That's the worst part. Anger and bloodlust. Every time I fight there's the temptation to just let go and keep killing until I'm gone. And then there's-" He hesitated, searched Spike's face, but saw nothing but curiosity and something he didn't dare put a name to. "Nightmares," he finished in a rush. "When I sleep alone. Sometimes even when there's someone there."

"You've had nightmares before," Spike said, and they both knew that he was referring to the days that Spike had stayed in Xander's basement, and Spike had watched silently from his chair while Xander had thrashed and cried out in his sleep from some unnamed horror. "They worse now?"

"More frequent," Xander said. "More real. And that's the problem. Sometimes, they are real. Only, I can never tell which ones are true dreams until it's too late." He rubbed his hands across his eyes, knowing that the gesture was childish and not caring. He was so damned tired.

Spike hesitated, then closed the distance between them and laid a cool, comforting hand on his shoulder. "I came here to tell you that Kel's out with the Bit," he said softly. "He's going hunting after that. Said he wouldn't be back till dawn."

Xander had leaned into Spike's touch, couldn't help himself, but at Spike's words he had to fight the urge to curl up in a little ball. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't sleep alone, not tonight, not in Sunnydale. And he was so tired.

"I can see you're worn thin," Spike said, still softly. "If you want, I'll stay the night with you."

Xander looked up at him, searching for any trace of mockery, and found only sincerity. If he said yes, then Spike would crawl into bed with him and hold him while he slept. It was staggering, and more than Xander was sure that he could quite handle. Spike made him feel too much.

He licked his lips nervously, opened his mouth to say no, and-

"Okay."

* * *

_He was running. He was always running. Something pursued him, something dark and angry and powerful, and he knew that it wanted to consume him. It wanted to obliterate him, and if he didn't run, didn't get away, he wouldn't exist anymore._

_ He raced up the stairway, feeling hot, sulfurous breath singing the heels of his bare feet. The doorway was right in front of him, and he knew that if he could just reach it, he'd be free._

_ He burst through the open doorway, coming out onto the roof. But still the creature pursued. _

_ He ran across the roof, silent on the hot, melting tar that burned the bottoms of his feet, but he was oblivious to agony. Nothing mattered but the thing behind him._

_ After moments that seemed like an eternity, he reached the edge of the roof and stopped. It was a long, long way down. There was no way out but back the way he came._

_ It took everything he had, but he turned to face the thing behind him._

_ Faced himself._

_ The other Xander grinned at him and tucked his hands into the pocket of his black jeans. "It's not so bad, you know. Giving in, I mean. It's a lot easier from this side. You should try it."_

_ The soles of Xander's feet started to melt, and through the agony he realized that the building was burning, and the roof along with it. Flames were starting to lick up around the other Xander, who just stood there, casually grinning, rocking back and forth on his heels, waiting for an answer. Xander tried to open his mouth, tried to give him one, but nothing came out. He had no voice._

_ "C'mon," the other Xander coaxed, and his voice was cool like lemonade on a hot day, tempting like original sin. Sweet and carnal and Xander leaned towards him unconsciously, wanting to do what the other him asked. Wanting to give in. It had to be easier than this. Anything had to be easier than this._

_ "I promise you, the pain will stop," the other Xander said, and almost against his will Xander took a step towards him, the pain falling away at the action. There was a flash of triumph in the other Xander's eyes, and it looked like the fires of hell itself in those dark eyes._

_ Abruptly, Xander turned away from him, took a step up onto the cement wall that edged the roof. There was a roar of fury behind him, but Xander paid it no heed- just smiled a sweet smile at the night sky above him, and stepped off into space.

* * *

_

Xander woke to Spike's cool hands on his bare shoulders, shaking him back into consciousness. Spike halted the motion when he saw Xander was awake, but didn't take his intent gaze off of Xander's face.

"Xan? You okay?"

Xander was perhaps too dazed to notice Spike calling him by the nickname, but Spike was sure he'd remember it in the morning. Spike didn't care.

"Bad one," Xander said, still a little dazed. "Monster at my heels. Flames. Almost gave in, but I didn't. Took the leap. Leap of faith." He giggled, almost drunkenly, and there was a flash of very real fear at the nightmare that had clearly not lost its hold that caused a pang in Spike's heart.

Spike pulled Xander close against his chest, holding him tightly against his slightly smaller frame. "Spike's got you now, love. Go to sleep. I've got you."

"I trust you," was Xander's sleepy response, and he was asleep in moments, leaving Spike fighting off the urge to actually cry from the gift he had been given.

Holding Xander tightly, he swore to himself that he wouldn't waste it.

* * *

Kel smiled at Dawn, who was walking beside him, thumbs hooked comfortably through her belt loops. He noticed with approval the stake tucked into her back pocket, and thought ruefully that he was dealing with a whole new breed of girl- a child of the Hellmouth. 

They'd both wanted to see the same movie, and Buffy, distracted by the pending apocalypse, had given her permission to go as long as she had someone with her. The movie was over now, and they were walking back towards the Summers house, talking every now and then when the whim took them.

"So what's up with you and Xander, anyway?" she asked, and he could tell that she'd been dying to know since she'd heard about them. "One moment it seems like you're lovers, and then the next it's like you're just good friends."

"That's because we're both," he said. "Friends mostly. There is no one on this earth I respect more than him, and he needs me. It's a rare thing to be truly needed."

He paused, tucked his hands into his pockets. "As to the physical side of things, well..." He trailed off, then turned to look at her. "Solace isn't just a word."

With so many people, he would have had to explain himself, but Dawn just nodded as if she understood it perfectly well. "I get it," she said, and even though it was astonishing to Kel, she did. Hell, if he'd known that they raised girls like this on the Hellmouth, he would have figured out some way to get Xander back here years ago.

"It's-" he started, and was interrupted by a rush of knowledge into his brain. He stopped walking, suddenly deaf and blind, and had to lean against a wall that his skin did not register the texture of.

Gradually it faded, and he became aware of Dawn standing next to him, anxiously asking, "What is it? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he managed. "But I've got to tell Xander."

"Tell Xander what?" Understanding hit. "You had a vision, didn't you?"

"Something just happened," he said. "The Council. Things are moving faster now. But I know the answer."

"Answer?" she prompted, when he didn't continue.

"The answer to the question, Why now? I know the answer."

"What is it?" she demanded, and he looked at the wall he was leaning on rather than her face as he told her.

"Buffy."


	4. Foundations

**Part Four: Foundations.**

* * *

In which foundations are laid for something better, explanations are given, and new faces arrive.

* * *

When Xander woke up he had no idea what time it was, nor where he was. This in itself was enough to pull him from his sleepy daze to alertness, and three things hit him at once.

One, he had been sleeping curled up with Spike, not Kel as he'd automatically assumed.

Two, he'd really, really liked it, if the tightness of his jeans was anything to go by.

And three, Kel was standing next to his bed, snapping his fingers to get Xander's attention.

Xander shook his head to clear it and pulled himself to a vaguely upright position, ignoring the sleepy protests of the vampire sprawled across his chest. Spike slid down until his face was pressed into Xander's side, and then settled himself more firmly against Xander's body before, too all appearances, he fell back into a deep sleep.

Kel snapped his fingers again, and Xander mentally blessed him for remembering the right way to handle Xander, just like he always did. One of Xander's biggest weaknesses was that he was slow to wake up when his sleep had been uneasy, and they'd long ago discovered that Xander reacted adversely to any sudden loud noises or unexpected touches when he wasn't fully awake. Kel had figured out a way to get him awake and paying attention without triggering any sort of violent response.

"Sorry," he said hoarsely, rubbing one hand over his scratchy jaw. "Tired. Nightmares."

A rude snort was essayed from behind Kel, and it was just then that Xander noticed Dawn, hovering over the shifter's shoulder. "That's what they all say," Dawn said, and Xander glared at her with enough genuine menace that she tactfully shut up.

"What's up?" Xander asked, deciding to ignore Dawn for as long as possible. He wasn't awake enough yet to deal with her. "You've got that look."

"Council of Watchers is gone, Potentials are on their way here, and Buffy's resurrection is the reason the First is acting now."

And just like that, Xander was completely awake. "Shit," he growled, and Dawn emitted a startled little squeak because it was a real growl, similar to the noise Spike made when irritated only more canine. "Fuck. Hell. This we do not need right now." He stared at Kel out of eyes with pupils that were suddenly too wide to be human. "Buffy caused the First to rise again?"

"She's died twice now, Xan. The Slayer line is split in three now. You know how it is with threes."

"Shit, yeah. The Council?"

"Agents of the first hit Headquarters while they were in session."

Xander gave him a look that was very close to panic. "Please tell me Blake was in the field."

"Yeah, he was. He's heading this way now." Xander closed his eyes- with relief, Dawn thought. "Don't worry about Blake. He always lands on his feet, you know that."

"Like a fucking cat," Xander said, and startled them both when he laughed. "Must be why you two never get along."

Kel showed his teeth. "Must be," he said amicably.

"Okay." He glanced down at Spike, who was showing no signs of waking up soon. "Right, we've gotta tell the others and deal, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do."

"Okay." Another stolen glance down at Spike. "Give me half an hour to get ready. Can you two call a meeting? Might as well tell everyone at once. And-" He stopped, raised one hand to rub at the furrow that had already formed between his eyebrows. Dawn wondered if it was there even when he slept. "Shit. I just- shit. Okay. Do you know when Blake will get here?"

"Anywhere from now till next week. I don't know where he is or how he's getting here, just that he's on his way."

"Okay. Then that's it for now, and I'll be ready in half an hour." When neither of them moved, Xander arched an eyebrow and said, "You can go now, you know."

Kel just shrugged, used to Xander's abrasiveness, but Dawn stuck her tongue out at him before she left the room. She made sure to shut the door on her way out though, figuring that if Xander was going to have sex with Spike or something, she so didn't want to hear it.

Well. Not if she couldn't see it, anyway.

What? They were both really hot.

"He really did have a nightmare last night," Kel said, breaking into her thoughts. She glanced over at him as they left the mansion and started down Crawford Street, heading for the center of town. He was pacing along with that slightly inhuman loping gate of his that she'd noticed the night before, his hands tucked into his pockets and his gaze focused rather intently on the pavement. "I mean, they didn't have sex last night, and Xander's always hazy like that when he has nightmares."

"How do you know they didn't have sex?" Dawn demanded, and he gave her a sideways condescending glance.

"Wolf shifter, remember? I could smell it."

"I was wondering about that!" she said. "Are you like, a werewolf or something? What's the difference?"

This time Kel's expression was closer to an outright sneer. "Comparing a shifter to a were is like comparing a human to a chimpanzee. We're so much more evolved. Weres have no control over their change, which isn't fully to a wolf at all, and they retain no human awareness when they are changed. They're fairly useless, all things considered. Better senses even as a human, but other than that they're not decent fighters, and they're completely useless three nights out of the month."

"Well, ex-cuse me." Dawn discovered that there was a side of Kel that was not easygoing at all, and though she wasn't sure she liked it, at least it gave him more depth than she'd previously ascribed to him. Any person- or shifter, or whatever- that didn't have some sort of hot button was either a robot or a monk, and a monk Kel was not.

Not if she was interpreting the signals right, anyway.

It was too soon to be sure. He wasn't making any sort of move, but if she was right, and she often was, then he was planning on it.

And that was just fine with her.

"Hey, we gotta get to Buffy's," he said, and she grinned at him.

"Race you there!" she yelled, and took off at a sprint. She had no doubt that he could catch her, but that wasn't the point. The point was the chase.

Any predator knows that the best part is the pursuit.

* * *

"So," Xander said after the pair was completely out of earshot. "I suppose you heard all that."

"You suppose right," Spike said, without opening his eyes. "I suppose this is the part where we get up and go talk ourselves to death?"

"You suppose right," Xander echoed, not without a smile. "The world is in peril, and we, my friend, are the only ones who-"

"Blah, blah, blah." Without warning, Spike rolled fluidly and pinned Xander underneath of him. He considered it another gift when Xander didn't tense up, just grinned up at him when Spike encircled his wrists with an iron grip that the vampire had no doubt the man could break.

"Oddly enough, this looks nothing like getting to the Magic Box," Xander said.

"I said I was listenin'. We've got half an hour, right? I can do a lot with half an hour." As if to prove it, he leaned down to scrape his teeth lightly over Xander's earlobe. Not a kiss, not yet, understanding on an instinctive level that a kiss to Xander meant so much more than fucking, and willing to wait.

Xander shivered at the contact, but otherwise didn't react. "Spike..." he said, and his voice was soft with some sort of warning and plea all rolled into one. Spike understood- didn't like it, but understood- and rolled off of him, flopping onto his back.

"Right," he said matter-of-factly. "Danger. Apocalypse. Fun."

Xander rolled up onto one elbow and looked down at Spike. "You aren't gonna argue?"

Was that disappointment? Heh, Spike would wear him down yet. "Nah," he said casually, then saw the look of confusion in Xander's eyes and relented. "Look," he began in a more serious tone. "I get it. There's bigger issues to deal with at the moment than our respective cocks, and believe it or not I _am_ able to be patient when I need to. At the moment we have to go sort out the Slayer and the Scoobies and deal with the new crises. And that's fine." His expression became hard, intent. "But believe me, pet, sooner or later we _will_ get down to it. I'm not finished with you. Don't see myself being finished with you for a long fucking time."

"No problem with that," Xander said, his expression a better mirror of Spike's expression than the empty piece of glass on the wall. Spike looked at his with surprised question- he'd expected some sort of protest, something- and Xander shook his head at him. "I don't have a lot of friends," he said. "I've never had a lover. I didn't think I even could love. And then you came sauntering right back into my life and suddenly everything is different. If you think I'm gonna back away from that, you're fucking kidding yourself."

"Good," Spike said. "You know that when I fall, I fall hard. And pet, the moment I saw you snarling at me in that graveyard, I fell." Pause. "I lo-"

Xander's hand snapped upwards and suddenly there were two fingers across his lips, silencing him. "Not now," Xander said. "Not during an apocalypse. After this is over, then you can say it." Pause. "After this is over, I can say it."

Spike nodded. He understood. And he didn't need to hear the words to know the truth.

"So," he said, deciding that the conversation was probably over and there were more pressing topics at hand. "Care to remind me where the shower is in this place?"

* * *

Once again, Xander stood in front of the Scoobies, Kel sitting as always comfortably at his feet. Looking over the scene from his usual ladder perch, Spike had a feeling of déjà vu that he just knew was going to be repeating itself over the coming weeks. Sweet girl, Buffy was, sometimes anyway, but a general she was not. And a general, Spike knew, was what would be needed to defeat the First in Sunnydale, the Devil's own playground.

Spike watched Xander, as the man concisely laid out the bare bones of Kel's latest vision. He watched Giles' shock at the knowledge that the Watcher's Council was all but destroyed, Willow's guilt and Buffy's shock at the knowledge that she was the cause of the First mobilizing now, and finally everyone's upset at the knowledge that very shortly, they were going to be housing and training as many Potentials as the remaining Watchers could get their hands on.

Buffy was the one who broke first. "What do you mean, I'm the one who caused the comeback of the First?"

Xander frowned, a little irritated since he'd thought he'd covered this, and answered her. "Not you. Your resurrection. You died twice, which has split the Slayer line twice. There are now three branches to that line, three Slayers. Three is one of the mystical numbers of power, which is why the First is only moving now, instead of back when the Master drowned you."

Most of them still looked baffled, so Xander sighed and explained further. "Some numbers are just naturally powerful, which is why they appear in myth and magic so often. Three, seven, and nine, as well as multiples of those numbers. All are mystically significant. It's why Hellbound are activated when we're twenty- we only live seven years after we get our power, and die when we're twenty seven, which is three thrice. See?"

"Okay," Buffy said. "I suppose that's not the important part. The important part is figuring out what to do next."

To a man (or woman, or vampire) everyone looked at Xander, who took a deep breath and sighed (with resignation, Spike guessed) and started talking.

"Faith is out of prison, and is currently working with the Angel Investigations team in LA. She, and they, are our reserve troops. If it comes down to it, and it probably will, there are some favors I can call in to get more people here to help.

"In less than seven days, we will have teenage girls from all over the globe pouring in. They will be looking for a safe place, and believe it or not, Sunnydale is the safest place there is for Potentials just now. Our job is to train them as best as we can, to prepare them for the danger that's to come."

"Who, precisely, is bringing the Potentials?" Giles asked.

"The first lot are being brought personally by my contact in the council. The rest will be sent here on their own, generally by bus or plane as most won't be old enough to drive."

"And who, precisely, is this contact you keep talking about?"

"Why Rupert," an accented voice said from the doorway. "That would be me."

Giles turned very slowly to face the door, where a tall, thin man was standing with two girls next to him. The setting sun was at his back, causing his face to fall in shadow, but the British accent and the sword belted at his waist marked him easily as a Watcher.

"Blake Ashford," Giles said dryly, clearly having no trouble recognizing the new arrival. "How unpleasant to see you again."


	5. Revolutions

**Part Five: Revolutions.**

* * *

In which the training commences and flirting occurs.

* * *

Notes: Principal Wood will not be in this story. I just can't handle the stress that is his character. However, I offer another charming, mysterious, and morally ambiguous character in his place. This one, however, will not sleep with Faith. Because... no.

* * *

"It's good to see you too, Rupert," the man said, and came into the shop. Without the light behind him casting his face into shadow Buffy could see that the man had the dusky skin tone and hawk-like features that indicated desert lineage, with surprisingly bright blue eyes that sparkled with wit and intelligence. The simple black button-down shirt and jeans were perfectly normal, but the sword at his side was not. Still, he didn't look like any Watcher _she_ had ever met.

"Blake, my man," Xander called. "You made damn good time."

"Don't I always?" Blake said. "And I brought you presents."

Buffy watched with fascination as Xander crossed the room with absolutely silent footsteps despite the heavy boots on his feet, Kel padding right on his heels. The man- or demon, Buffy still wasn't totally clear on the whole Hellbound thing- went right up to the two girls and examined them for a silent moment.

"Just what I wanted," Xander said.

"There were supposed to be three of them," Kel pointed out. Everyone looked at him, and he shrugged. "Well, there were."

Blake shook his head and clucked his tongue. "Terrible tragedy, that. Amanda was a delightful girl. But our first encounter with a Bringer, well, she took it into her foolish head to run like the charming rabbit she was, and got herself killed. So I'm short a Potential."

"Good to know you still care about your charges so much," Giles said, and hello, was that venom in his voice? Buffy decided for once to just stay out of it and watch the drama unfold in front of her instead of getting involved.

"Certainly I care," Blake said. "Just because I don't love the girls doesn't mean that I'm not distressed at losing one. Isn't that right, girls?" he asked the two that were standing next to him.

"Um," the younger one said. Another Brit.

"He's an asshole," the older one said succinctly in an accent that was pure American. "But he's good." With that rousing endorsement, she wandered over to the table where all the Scoobies were sitting and sat backwards in the only remaining chair. "Kennedy," she introduced herself, and then to all appearances ignored the existence of everyone in the room but the Potential she had arrived with.

"The lady speaks the truth," Blake said. "Besides, are you still holding a grudge after all these years?"

"No," Giles said. "I just don't like you."

"Fair enough," Blake replied, and turned to Kel. "And how are you doing, pup?"

"I don't like you either," Kel told him, and left Xander's side to sit at Dawn's feet instead.

"I'm wounded," Blake said. "Xander, you still like me, correct?"

"Sure," Xander said easily. "Though you are, indeed, an asshole."

"I'd be boring were I anything else," the man pointed out. "Ah well. I've delivered two of my three charming charges, and my duty is now complete. Bye now."

He turned to leave, but Xander snagged his arm. "Nice try," he said. "Sit down. Don't talk."

"That's asking too much, you know," Blake pointed out, but he did move over to a wall and lean on it, looking like some sort of overgrown cat with his grace and inherent sense of entitlement.

"Um, not to be annoying or anything," Willow said hesitantly, one hand in the air like a kid in class. "But, well... Who's he?"

Blake grinned- again, like a cat, Buffy thought- and opened his mouth to answer, but Xander made a dismissive gesture and he closed it again. "That's Blake," Xander said. "My Council contact."

"I'd picked up on that, yeah," Willow said. "But he doesn't look like a Watcher to me," she added, unconsciously echoing Buffy's earlier thought.

"I'm a wet works agent," Blake said, ignoring Xander's order to stay silent. "Or, in other words, I don't watch; I do."

"He does the Council's dirty work," Giles said with clear rancor from by the doorway, where he hadn't moved. "The people that were called in to round up Faith? Those were wet works agents."

"You flatter me, Rupert," Blake said. "I'd never be assigned to bring in a rogue Slayer."

"Because they don't trust you enough," Giles said. "You have a distressing tendency to play more than one side."

"Well, he plays mine, which is all I care about," Xander interrupted. Dawn gave him a speculative glance, and he growled at her, muttering, "Not _that_ way, Dawn. Jesus, mind in the gutter, much?"

"I wasn't the one who spent the night in bed with- mmph!"

Dawn's voice was cut off by Kel's hand, which suddenly and neatly covered her mouth. "I think now would be a good time to get the Potentials settled in," Kel said calmly, completely ignoring the indignant sounds Dawn was making behind his palm. "Blake, do you know when the rest are arriving?"

"There should be six or seven trickling in over the next few days," Blake said. "Three more tomorrow."

"Right," Xander said, taking control of the conversation again. "Fair to say that training starts the day after tomorrow, then? The Scoobies will take the Potentials, and Blake will stay with us." Buffy didn't miss his unintentional statement of alliance- they were the Scoobies, and he was not. It still hurt, even after these years. "The mansion has the best space for training- bring the Potentials there.

"And for now, I think we'll head out. Head home, get Blake settled, and then take patrol for the night." Buffy gave him a sharp look, and he just shrugged, not apologetic in the least at usurping her duties. "You have enough on your plate," he told her, and she gave him a half-hearted glare, knowing the truth in that.

"Blake, we're out of here," he said, and Blake detached himself from the wall to come over and stand by his side. Kel moved over immediately, releasing Dawn, who hunched back into her chair with a scowl, and the three of them moved towards the doorway.

Xander paused at the threshold and looked back over his shoulder and across the room. But who was he looking at? Unless-

"You coming?" Xander said, and without hesitation- or even a word to the rest of them- Spike jumped down from the ladder and crossed the room to Xander's side.

And just like that, Buffy knew that she'd lost him.

* * *

Three days later, watching the Potentials training in the spacious grounds behind the Crawford Street mansion, Buffy was still thinking about it. It wasn't that she wanted Spike to be hers. In fact, she'd fought long and hard against having him be hers in the first place.

But then he'd tried so hard to save Dawn when Glory had her, and when Buffy had been brought back from the dead he'd been the friend to her that none of the others could be. There'd been a time when she'd thought about it- couldn't seem to stop herself. But she'd realized that it was just her self-destructive instincts working overtime, and so she kept herself from acting on it, and their half-flirting friendship had mellowed into something oddly like she had had with Xander, years before. Not the same personality at all, of course, but the sense of camaraderie and ease of companionship- that was the same.

And just as it had been with Xander, she hadn't realized just how much she'd relied on that relationship, that friendship, that- _say it like it is, Buff-_ devotion, until it was gone.

Yeah, people always fell in love with her, were devoted to her. Until something better came along.

He'd drifted from her in the past month or so. He'd helped her by tracking down Warren while she lay in the hospital, and had caught the little bastard and thrown his ass straight to the cops while Willow and Tara hovered at her bedside and bolstered her Slayer healing with spells. But then he'd been gone for days at a time, and then she'd seen neither hide nor hair of Spike since he'd followed Xander out of the Magic Box three days earlier. And when she'd showed up at the mansion that would, in her mind, always be The Mansion Where Angelus Was, Kel had told her that Spike was asleep in the master bedroom. He'd had taken the seven Potentials, even poor Chao-Ahn, who couldn't speak English, out back and started doing drills.

Ten minutes after that, _Xander_ came out of the master bedroom, and went out to join them.

She was trying to decide how she felt about the whole thing when she suddenly became aware of someone standing right behind her.

"It looks as if we're readying for a war," came Blake's drawling voice, before she could spin around and confront whoever it was. Jesus, he was _quiet._ She thought that he was human, but she had never heard any human- even herself- walk that quietly.

"Aren't we?" she said, not turning to face him. "And I don't know. It looks to me like we're the hopeless revolutionaries about to storm the armies of the all-powerful empire."

"Ah, but they're the revolutionaries," he pointed out, and she turned around at last to look at him. Those blue eyes were so damn startling, even after she'd braced herself against their impact. "They're the ones who want to remake the world into something evil. We're just trying to defend the status quo, such as it is."

"I notice that you didn't try to challenge the "hopeless" part of that statement."

"Hadn't gotten to it, but rest assured, I hadn't forgotten. I don't think we're hopeless." He shook his head at her, as if chiding her for even thinking it. "This is just the beginning of our forces, you know. And just think how much worse it could be."

"Yeah?" she challenged softly. "How much worse could it be?"

"You could be on your own," Blake said. "No witches. No Watcher."

"No," Buffy said, thoughtfully. "I don't think I could be."

"Fine, then," Blake said. "You could be without Xander, at least. And trust me, Miss Summers, that would be a very bad way to be."

"Yeah?" she said again. "Why?"

He looked at her as if she was mentally challenged. "Not only is that man your strongest flank, he's making all your other flanks stronger," he said. "He's a deadly fighter, but he doesn't just bring himself to the table. He brings in Kel, who is no one that anyone in their right mind would want to come up against, and he has visions to boot. Which means that the Powers that Be are behind Xander. He's got even closer ties to Angel and company down in LA than you do. He had friends and allies scattered all over the country, and a few in other countries. And you'd better believe that when he calls them, they will come. We all believe in him too much not too."

"We?" she said, and he gave her a little half-smile.

"I'm a very self-serving man, Buffy Summers. I would never set foot in this town, especially not with the First here, except for loyalty to him."

He glanced down at the yard. "In time, there will be many more of us. In the end, you may be right. We may be planning a revolution, for a better world." He looked back at her, and there was an oddly intense look in those damn blue eyes of his. "But right now we are only beginning."

He sketched a little bow to her at the end of these words, and faded back into the shadows of the house as silently as he'd arrived. Buffy watched him go, unable to shake the feeling that while Blake might have been saying one thing, he was trying to tell her something else altogether.

* * *

Down in the yard Kel took a break to sit at the base of the tree in the yard while Xander worked the girls. Because he had been watching the little interaction between Blake and Buffy he saw Dawn come to the doorway, say something to her sister, then spot him and walk outside, making a beeline straight for him.

"You haven't been around the past few days," she accused, as soon as she was beside him. He looked up at her, one hand against his forehead to shade against the sun, and smiled at her.

"Sorry. The mansion was kind of a wreck, though, and the three of us were trying to get it habitable. Your house won't be able to hold everyone, and we're using the place as training central, besides."

She slid down the tree truck to sit companionably next to him. "The three of you, huh? What about Spike?"  
"I meant Spike. Blake, doing housework? Not freakin' likely. He'd been hitting the weapons dealers around town, of which there are quite a lot for this town's population, since Xan and I didn't bring enough with us to arm a bunch of Potentials."

"What's Blake's deal, anyway? He seems charming, but he also kinda gives me the creeps. I get the feeling that all that charm is surface, and inside he is a deeply scary person."

"You're right," Kel said, glancing over at her in surprise. "I can't believe you caught that. Most people listen to him and think he's harmless, and he's not."

"So what is he?"

"Oh, he's human," Kel said, deliberately misunderstanding, and got a smack on his arm for it.

"He really is a Council wet works agent," he said, relenting. "But he's more than that. He's also a genuine fighter- most of the year he travels third-world countries and 'teaches the demons some respect for civilization,' in his words. The Council only uses him for assassinations- usually demons or other otherworldly bad guys who are in some high position or other. He's not always the most mentally stable guy, and even on his best days he's an asshole, but you gotta say this for the bastard- he is the best."

"I can't tell you how comforting that isn't," Dawn said, but she didn't seem unduly worried. She nudged him with her elbow. "Stop by next time, will you? It's no fun. Buffy's all uptight, Willow and Tara aren't much better, and it's hell having to share my room with the Potentials. Especially since I got stuck with Kennedy and Molly, and Kennedy totally has a crush on Molly, who doesn't have a clue but seems to be attracted to her anyway. The sexual tension is driving me nuts. I wish they'd give it up and kiss already."

He chuckled, and she grinned at him. "I mean, come on. It's all innuendo, and longing glances, and staring at each other when they think that no one will notice."

"You're free to come by any time," he told her. "If, you know, you need to get away for a while."

She leaned over and kissed him, a quick brush of her lips against his, and while he was blinking with surprise, she leaned back and got to her feet.

"I may take you up on that," she said with a private sort of smile, and wandered back towards the mansion.

Kel watched her walk away, and then smiled to himself before he got up to take his turn at training Potentials.

* * *

Xander flopped onto the bed and sighed as some of the tension he'd been carrying all day started to leach out of his frame. "Long fucking day," he said to himself.

"Caught some of it," Spike said, and Xander rolled his head to the right so he could watch the vampire enter the room and start to take of his clothes. "You're gonna need to start taking them on patrols soon."

"You take them," Xander said. "I think I'm dying. I haven't been this tired since that time I got caught in the middle of a war between two demon clans."

"I'd be happy to," Spike told him, tossing his duster over the chair his boots were already next to and starting on his shirt. "But they all seem to look up to you." He paused, schooling his face into serious lines. "Daddy."

"Bite your tongue," Xander said.

"You do it for me," Spike said. "Though it's not like you can get me pregnant, even if we were doing anything interesting."

Xander turned his head away as Spike lost the pants and crawled into bed next to him. "You know why I'm waiting," he said, hating the way that his voice sounded so weak. Yeah, as weak as his will was after three nights of sleeping wrapped around Spike's cool body.

"Yeah, I know," Spike said, burrowing his head into its accustomed place in the hollow in Xander's shoulder that could have been shaped by the Powers specifically for him. "The end of the world, blah blah. I'm going to wear you down yet, just you see."

Minutes later, when Xander was sure that Spike was asleep, he whispered, "That's what I'm afraid of."

* * *

Across town, in the basement of the Sunnydale High School, blood dripped from the sacrifice down onto the exposed seal and it slowly unfolded, allowing a single clawed hand to thrust its way free. 


	6. Long Way Down

**Part Six: Long Way Down.**

* * *

_In which everyone learns that the better things are, the further you have to fall._

Notes: The title comes from the song of the same title by Radford.

* * *

It was your average night. If your idea of "average" was "as far away from average as inhumanly possible."

Spike and Xander had half the Potentials with them on patrol, while Buffy, accompanied by Blake, had the other half. Kel and Dawn were holding the fort back at the mansion, supposedly studying the First but probably making out. Buffy hadn't figured it out yet, and Xander figured that it wasn't his place to inform her of the romance between her sister and his partner.

To everyone's relief, Kennedy and Molly had been split up, with Kennedy on Buffy's patrol team since Blake was the only person who seemed to be able to control her. Well, Xander could, if necessary, but he despised the spoiled little princess so much that he'd refused to take her, and had instead taken the more easygoing Molly.

All of the girls had some natural fighting ability, that was clear. Most of them had come to Sunnydale virtually untrained, however, which had made the last two weeks of heavy drills very necessary, even if the girls bitched about it.

Xander and Buffy had already decided on a plan for the newly-started patrols. Find a vampire, trap it somewhere enclosed, and leave the girls to fight it out on their own, while still staying close enough to come to their aid if necessary.

Unfortunately, the plan wasn't working for Spike and Xander's group. They'd already hit three different cemeteries, and they hadn't found a single vampire.

"This is starting to get ridiculous," Xander said. "What is it about vampires that they're only there when you don't want them to be?"

"Oi!"

"Didn't mean you," Xander said absently to an offended Spike. The girls snickered a little, and Xander reacted with nothing more alarming than a mild glare.

The man in front of him was not the same man who had snarled at Spike in the cemetery two weeks ago. That man, worn down to nothing but the essentials and bitter with it, had blossomed- the only word Spike could think for it- under Spike's attention. And, Spike noticed with satisfaction, he'd been leaning more and more on Spike as Spike had learned his moods and triggers, and less and less on the wolf boy.

Not that Spike had anything against Kel. He wasn't even sure that he was jealous. But he did know that not only had Xander not slept with Kel since the day Spike had, to all intents and purposes, moved into the mansion, but Spike had also replaced Kel as the person who was first in Xander's affections.

"I don't think we're going to find anything," Chloe said softly. Spike glanced over at her, remembering the night that she'd almost killed herself due to the First's influence, and only a well-timed vision of Kel's had given them a chance to stop her. Since then they'd all treated her a little less casually, and she'd started to gain a little more confidence, and, gasp, actually speak up every now and then.

"I think you're right," Molly said. Molly and Kennedy, despite their hot-and-heavy romance, were nonetheless the most together of the Potentials, and as such were the unacknowledged leaders.

Xander just shrugged his agreement. "Sure. Maybe Buffy and Blake had better luck with their group."

Spike snorted as they started back to Buffy's house, where they would drop off the Potentials before going home. "Speaking of luck, how's Blake doing with Buffy?"

Xander grinned at him- carefree and easy, and Spike gave a little triumphant cheer in his head for causing it. "I don't think she even knows that he's- what is he doing, anyway? Every time I watch him make a move, I can't decide if he's courting her or stalking her."

"Prob'ly a bit of both," Spike said. "You know, he reminds me a bit of a Chaos mage I met once..."

"Ethan Rayne," Xander said. "I know. Why Giles hates Blake quite so much. Leftover Ethan-rage."

"They were shaggin'?" Xander glanced over at him, and Spike elaborated, "Giles and Ethan, you prat. Not Blake."

"Fuck, yeah, they were shagging. And of course not Blake, he's straight." Pause. "I think."  
Spike ignored the bit about Blake. "Didn't end well?"

"What do you think?"

"I think they fucked each other brainless in the Ripper days and now Giles won't admit it, so Ethan kept coming back to Sunnydale to get the old boy's attention."

"Goddamn right."

The Potentials, following behind them, were listening with wide-eyed fascination. Spike wondered if Xander didn't notice, or just didn't care.

They went the rest of the way back to Buffy's house in silence, enjoying the night. Both of them were nocturnal people- Spike by necessity, and Xander by preference- but in the past few weeks neither of them had had a chance to get out much at night. It was refreshing for both of them to get a chance to stretch their legs, and the amusement they got from the nervous way the Potentials clutched their stakes and glanced down dark alleys was just a side benefit.

Just because Xander had relaxed a little didn't mean he'd lost his sense of humor.

They'd been expecting Buffy's house to be have a few lights on- these days someone was always awake, no matter what the hour, and Buffy had just taken the Potentials out- but they weren't expecting the blaze of light that came from every light and lamp in the blaze being turned on. When they saw it, everyone started walking faster, knowing in their bones that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

Buffy met them at the door, horribly bruised and battered, with stitches in her cheek and puncture wounds in her throat. Silently she gestured for Xander's Potentials to join the others in the living room, and when they were gone she told them, "Two of the Potentials are dead. It almost killed me. I don't know what it is, Christ, it looked like some sort of vampire but far, far worse, and Blake said it was a Turok-something..."

"Turok-han," Xander said. His voice was absolutely lifeless, and when Spike looked over at him, in surprise of both his knowledge and his tone, he saw that Xander's expression was as dead as his voice.

"Yeah, that's it," Buffy said. She sounded as tired as she looked, and didn't seem to notice the eerie way that Xander was giving off absolutely no emotion. "I managed to fight it off long enough for everyone else to run, and I got away only because I know the area better than it did."

"Did it follow you?" And there was an emotion- urgency. Buffy looked alarmed.

"I don't think so, but-"

And then there was a clawed hand around Spike's throat and a rending pain in his shoulder. Apparently, he thought in the tiny portion of his brain that wasn't focusing on trying to fight the thing off, the Turok-han had indeed followed her home.

He heard something- a feral snarl that reminded him of the year after he'd first been turned, and then several years back, sitting in a wheelchair in a factory. It was a vampire snarl of fury, and he'd never, ever heard anyone make that noise except Angelus. No one else had been able to pull it off.

But last he checked, Angelus wasn't there. Was he?

And then he was on the ground, looking up to see the Turok-han (nasty-lookin' fellow) run down the street. He didn't have time to think about what had run it off before Xander was hauling him to his feet, staring at him with eyes that- oh Christ- were fucking glowing.

Well. Now he knew where the snarl had come from.

"It cut you." That was Xander's voice coming from his throat, but Spike really had to wonder if it was the same person saying the words.

"Er, yeah. Shoulder. Just a scratch, really, it's not-"

"It made you bleed," Xander said. "Its heart is mine."

And Spike had a half-second to wonder exactly what _that_ meant before Xander dropped his hands away and took off down the street, running flat-out in the direction that the Turok-han had gone.

Well. That couldn't be good.

"Christ!" a British voice said from the doorway. Blake. "What happened?"

"The Turok-han followed me back here," Buffy said, sounding shaky. Blake's hand immediately went to her shoulder to steady her, and Spike wondered- how does she not know about his intentions, again? "It grabbed Spike, tried to choke him, and then Xander grabbed it and threw it off. It ran down the street, and then Xander grabbed Spike and his eyes were all glowy and weird and he said that its heart was his or something, and ran after it."

"Fuck," Blake breathed. "Oh, fuck." He spun to Spike. "Go after him, now."

Spike took off without a word, and Blake turned to Buffy. "I'm calling Kel. He's been transferring to Spike, even I can tell that, but Kel's been his anchor for two years now. He'll listen to Kel. Oh, fuck, I hope Spike knows what he's doing. Maybe if Kel can get there in time, the two of them can stop him."

"Stop him from what?" Buffy demanded, and he turned to her, looking very frightened and oddly young in his fear.

"From killing us all."

* * *

Xander ran.

The wind rushed all around him, ruffling his hair and whispering in his ears, the only sound he could hear beyond the clumsily scuffling footsteps of his prey. Xander could smell the scent of blood, and knew that he opened a wound when he had pulled the beast off of Spike. _His_ Spike.

Good. He planned to open many more.

He could even see the thing ahead of him, as he slowly closed the distance between them. It was laughable, the creature trying to escape him. The Turok-han was the first vampire, yes. The ancestor of the lesser demons. But Xander was not a lesser demon. He was the valve for an eternal wellspring of power, and the greater his focus, the wider the valve.

He was feeling... focused, tonight. And there was only one thing he was certain of, one thing he could even think of.

Tonight, this creature would die.

* * *

Spike was running flat out, and still he was falling behind. Xander wasn't running like any other creature Spike had ever seen. It was like his feet were barely touching the ground. He was moving across the ground like rage incarnate, like the battle crow that heralded the beginning of all great battles. Spike's merely vampiric strength just couldn't compete.

It wasn't long before he heard a growling yelp, and he glanced over to see a large, silent gray shape come barreling out of the shadows. The large gray wolf came up past his waist, far large than any wolf Spike had ever seen, and fell into step with him easily.

Kel.

Infinitely comforted by the presence of the shifter that was Xander's friend- and, he had to admit, his as well- he ran faster.

Straight into the middle of a battle.

* * *

Blake, thank god, was far more together than Buffy herself. When Buffy would have just run after them, Blake snagged her arm with his surprising strength and held her still while he quickly called Kel on his cell phone. The conversation was short and to the point, and within a minute he was off the phone and pulling her around the house, which confused her. Why was he taking her away from her friend, away from the fight, and going around to the garage?

Where Blake kept his motorcycle.

Oh.

So there she was, roaring down the street on the back of Blake's bike, arms around his waist and clinging with all her strength. It only took them a couple of minutes to catch up with the others, but the fight was already on when they got there, and though Buffy threw herself off the bike and rushed towards them, she found herself helpless to do anything but stand there, beside Spike and a large grey wolf that must be Kel and Blake, when he followed her more slowly, and watch a man who only looked like one of her oldest friends fight a creature that had almost killed her.

It was both the most savage fight that she had ever seen and the most elegant. The Turok-han was almost animalistic in its single-minded attempt to destroy Xander, but Xander looked like he was dancing, he was so graceful. It could almost have been a game of keep-away, Buffy thought, except for the constant rumbling growl that came from Xander's throat, and the red gleam in his eyes every time they were caught by the light. He might look like he was playing a game, but Buffy was all too aware that the man was driven by a rage that transcended everything but the need to destroy.

* * *

Xander felt like throwing his head back and laughing. The thing before him was so clumsy, so slow, that he was almost unworthy of Xander's attention. But the thing had harmed his mate, harmed what was his (_Spike!_ Some distant part of his mind screamed, where the last of his humanity was huddled, but he ignored it) and that was not to be forgiven. That was an act that required punishment, and there was no one better on this earth than Xander to mete out exactly the punishment that the creature deserved.

Abruptly tiring of the game he was playing with it, Xander met the next clumsy swipe of a clawed hand with a swift movement that captured the hand and then shattered all of the tiny, brittle bones. When the thing howled with pain, Xander yanked on the arm, spinning it around and dislocating the shoulder with a nasty-sounding _pop!_, and stooped quickly to pull a knife out of his boot. The creature tried to cut him with its other hand, which Xander captured as easily as the first, and it wasn't more than a moment before it was hanging limp from his hand, a knife buried longwise in its throat. Xander let it drop like the useless garbage it was, and turned his red-eyed gaze on the group of friends that stood not six feet away.

* * *

It was the best fight that Spike had ever seen, and Xander was absolutely beautiful- rage incarnate, and the thought of having that power turned towards him sent a shiver of pleasurable fear down his spine. But he knew that Xander was also a danger like this, to others and to himself, and he had no intention of becoming his lover's next victim. When Xander turned towards them, he put both hands behind his back and arched his neck slightly, a submissive posture that he could only hope would cool Xander's rage long enough to get him within touching distance.

It worked, and Xander pressed one boot down on the knife, sending it through the Turok-han's neck and effectively beheading it. Xander ignored the shower of dust, and moved slowly towards Spike, almost stalking over to him. It took everything he had, but he stood still, allowing the man- beast- _Hellbound_- to approach him, lean down, and bite his neck.

It wasn't a gentle bite. It drew blood, and the smell of it added to the little slice of pain caused Spike's cock to jump. The involuntary reaction wasn't lost on Xander, and a little bit of humanity bled back into his eyes. Spike, sensing his chance, whipped his arms around Xander's waist and clung, holding him tightly and trying to impart all the love and tenderness that he had in his demon heart and would never be able to voice.

Kel joined him, suddenly human and clothed, and the two of them stood there, embracing the man they both loved, and hoping that he'd come back to them.

* * *

It had been absolutely the most terrifying thing Buffy had ever seen, and the most beautiful at the same time. The intensity of Xander fighting was like lighting- you couldn't help but stare, but at the same time you hoped that it never, ever turned towards you.

It was a different kind of beauty to watch Xander, embraced by Spike and Kel, both of them murmuring to him, and Xander slowly relaxing, muscles coiled tense by battle and rage smoothing out and the red gleam of his eyes fading back to his ordinary brown. After a minute Blake apparently deemed it safe, and moved over to join them. The four of them stood there, and Buffy realized that this wasn't her world. This was family, and while Xander was her ally, and maybe somewhere in there he was still a little bit her friend, she wasn't welcome there.

So she turned away, walked away, and waited by Blake's motorcycle with her back turned to something she didn't have with her heart heavy in her chest.

* * *

Spike could feel the moment that Xander was himself again, and he felt relief coursing through him like never before. And also triumph- _I_ brought him back from that. It was a tangible sign of just how much he meant to his lover, and it was something he'd be able to hold close for years to come.

Finally Xander stepped away from the tight circle of arms and strength and caring, and stood on his own. Before Spike could feel too bereft, however, he reached out one long arm and snagged Spike, pulling him close with an arm around his shoulders for the simple pleasure of contact. Spike grinned to himself and kissed Xander on the side of his neck, and got a reassuring squeeze in return.

"Buffy." Xander even sounded like himself again, and it got Buffy to turn around and face him. "This isn't over. I need to speak to everyone. If you and Blake would go ahead of us and round them up, it would be much appreciated."

"Alright," she said, her voice a hoarse imitation of its usual strength. Blake silently moved to her side, and the two of them walked silently over to the motorcycle. Xander watched them with his deceptively human eyes as they climbed on, Buffy hanging on to Blake perhaps tighter than was entirely necessary, and rode off down the street.

Kel, in his wolf form again, pressed up against Xander's thigh with a whine. Xander dropped one hand down and stroked it gently over the smooth fur of the wolf's head, soothing the man who had been his only friend for years. Spike pressed against his other side, and Xander dipped his head to kiss the vampire that was his lover.

Time spun away then, lost in the wet heat of Xander's possessive kiss, lost in the sense of _family_ and _home_ and _mate_ and _forever._ Then the kiss was ended and the real world returned with a _thump,_ and they were walking down the street, Xander's right arm still around Spike's shoulders and his left hand still buried in Kel's ruff. They moved like one unit, and Spike thought that it might be the best thing he'd ever felt, and silently he swore, not for the first time, that he would do anything he had to in order to keep from losing this.


End file.
